Let’s take today’s ride easy

There was nothing easy about today’s ride (I started this blog on Thursday). Who does the Stone arch ride in September and then adds an additional 30 miles to that ride?

Joe called and said “Hey, I have an idea. Let’s ride out to St. Paul and do the Ramsey hill.” My response, “Ramsey Hill? Are you crazy? How about we do Grand Ave instead?” (Ramsey hill is a 2 block 15% grade, Grand is a 4 block hill at a steady 4% grade) Few minutes later I said, “How about this, we meet along the Luce Line trail, go downtown, and do the stone arch ride (35 mile route with 4 major hills) and MAYBE we do the Ramsey Hill.” What was I thinking? I just went from his level of difficulty of a 6 to my new suggested route a level 12. We decided to play it by ear.

I left my house and met Joe along the trail we headed to the stone arch. I’ve never done this route but it turned out to be 17 miles to the stone arch from my house. Normally the ride out to St. Paul is crazy fast but we took it easy. We stopped at the usual gas station for a Red Bull after I told Joe I can’t talk while we were climbing the Smith Bridge (2 mile climb). I think I shocked him—I admit, I’m always talking! Hey, I had to conserve energy that’s a long climb.

We continued on the route. I told Joe that I was debating about using my granny gear up Ohio Street. He was on his compact I was on my triple. To be fair I didn’t use my granny gear—but OMG that was much harder to go up that street then it was the first time in the spring. The minutes between the top if the High Bridge and the bottom of Ramsey is the most nerve racking moments. Can I get up that hill? Will this be the time that I have to walk? Should I just chicken out and do the side streets? Panic was clearly written on my face. Up until a block before the base of Ramsey hill I was still debating my route. Take the easy way up or concur the hill and be happy with my achievement? I haven’t climbed something that steep in a long time—I didn’t know how I would far. At the last second I turned to Joe told him to get in front of me and I’ll do the hill. Being happy with my achievement was much more important then taking the easy way out. He was a little taken back by my directness. We got to the top my heart rate maxed out at 180. I stayed out of my granny gear. A few choice comments came bursting out of my mouth once I got to the top. The young pedestrian crossing the street got a good laugh at my outburst. I acknowledged his laughter by saying “that hill sucks!” One of these days I’m going to be laughing at the Ramsey hill!

On the way back we stopped at Freewheel Bike shop to get a smoothie. 70 miles went by quickly although it took much longer to complete then most 70 mile rides. Oh well, it was fun.

On a side note, this past weekend my first cousin got married. Most of my family from my mother’s side was there. I haven’t seen a lot of them in 10 years. Oh how everyone has changed. The biggest change was my mother’s perception that now that I’m the only one not married out of her 7 children that it was time that she found someone for me. Her exact words were “Madonna, It’s time that I find you a husband because obviously what you’ve been doing hasn’t been working.” 30+ years and I have NEVER had the pressures from my mother to settle down. She has always stressed that I need to find the right one and that time was not an issue. She enlisted my aunt’s help in her search. I’m not sure if the Captain Morgan was clogging her judgment but she tried to set me up with Jason—who turned out to be the biggest player in the room. Hey, two can play this game. At the end of the night he was chasing me around. Mom, don’t worry it will happen—I’m just picky.

Candy Shop Ride

Formally known as the Madonnator.


Joe M. and I meet on County Road 6 and did the Candy Shop ride. The difference between last week and this week was stopping at a unique candy shop in Excelsior that sells candy you use do have when you were a kid. Joe insisted on two bags of taffy—which I didn't appose, but offered my extra pocket for transportation of said taffy (note the photo). I question my maturity about this ride. I’m talking about riding my bike and candy shops and loving every second of it—I don’t think I’ve changed much since I was a kid! Although, the sweet 72 year old lady behind the till told us she sees the type of glee we were expressing everyday. She must love her job!

After sitting on the pier taking in the nice weather we were having on the first full day of Fall we headed back just beating rush hour traffic. Joe and I joked about how our day starting off in Jody’s 5:45am class, my ambition to run a few miles after class, followed up with a nap, our 40 mile ride and then making plans for another ride with Jody tomorrow. Seriously, why am I looking for a job? Oh yeah…so I can continue to support my passion.

It’s too nice outside I have to go home.

While the boys were drinking beer and playing in the dirt at the Fat Tire race, in northern Wisconsin, seven of us took it to the road. We did the God’s Country Century. You couldn’t ask for a better day to hit the road for a long ride. Clear skies and slight wind from the south. Only a number of days left before we have to pull out the tights and the under layers. Seriously, if you were indoors for any reason—you need to check your priorities and then go jump on your bike!

Somewhere between Elk River and Zimmerman Dave turned to me and said “So, are we in God’s Country now?” I said I wasn’t sure where the line was but I’m pretty sure we already passed it and were in his country. What a beautiful route! What seemed odd was the unusual number of various road kill animals on the side of the road. A lot of raccoons, birds, turtles, snakes, frogs, deer—I wonder if they all went to heaven since they were in god’s country?

Since the weather was so nice and everyone worked together to make sure we stayed as a cohesive group averaging 20 mph, I guess I didn’t put two-and-two together why my legs were feeling like 2x4. In my mind I blamed everything from the bike to the shoes to my fitness peaking too early in the season while everyone is at their strongest. I didn’t realize until I got home normally we would stop about 3-4 times during a century ride but we only stopped once during the ride at the bakery in Cambridge for lunch and headed back. Although it sounds like I’m complaining—trust me I’m not. I’m actually excited that we only had to stop once and finished so quickly.

After we got back to Anoka, Perry—who tends to be more of the quite one in the group, said he had a great ride. If you ridden with Perry you know he’s a really nice guy and the pace car of the group. Always out front and always challenging us. We thanked him for pulling, but he said he only pulled twice. Yeah for 30 miles each!

My goal for the end of the season is 4,000 miles. I’m 400 miles away from that goal—so what do you say? Are you in for another ride?

By the way, congratulations to everyone that raced the Fat Tire this past weekend! We missed you on our ride.

Madonnaator

What a beautiful day for a bike ride. Four days before it's officially Fall, 80 degrees and NO wind. Are you sure I'm in Minnesota?

Tired of the usual routes I found a great new route that takes you around and through the lakes of Minnetonka. Best part was the traffic was low and the shoulders were clean and wide (for the most part). Definitely a route to put on the favorite list. I think I'll call it the...Madonnaator. Why not? I've always wanted a ride called after myself. It's the thing to do if you’re a cyclist - hell why do you think I blog. :)

Here are a few pictures of my ride today:

Trek enjoying the last few days of summer by Lake Minnetonka.

How I feel when I ride my Bike.

2009 WI Ironman

This past weekend I met up with a number of my REGBRAI friends to cheer on two of our teammates in the WI Ironman. I can not express how inspiring it is to cheer on 2000 racers who spent the past year of their life getting ready for this event. If you have never had the opportunity to watch an Ironman you are missing out!

Consider yourself warned, there are two distinct moments in the race that will cause you to choke-up and give you chills. 1. The moment they fire the gun to start the race. The breath taking view of the lake with a beautiful sunrise, all the racers swimming at once and knowing that 2000 lives have just been changed at that moment is one word—Amazing! 2. After standing out on the course cheering these athletes on for 11-13 hours to experience them come across the line and the announcer yelling, “XX YOU ARE AN IROMAN!” Well, you know you were there to witness one of the greatest moments in that person’s life. Inspiring!

Last year I went down to watch 4 of our friends' race. The four of us spectating had so much fun that this year while they raced last years racers paid it forward 100%. Bob brought his bike/stereo which we blasted dance music and rang cow bells while the racers came by—it didn’t matter if we knew you or not, we were cheering for everyone. It was so much fun to see the racers on mile 22 run past us and do a little dance of their own—which only fueled us to yell a little louder. By the time our racers came though we were in full dance party mode.

Scott, one of our racers, had the support of his entire family along side us. Each one of them said in a choked-up voice that they were proud of him. The most touching moment was when I spoke to his father. He said knowing that his son had friends that came out to support him, like we did, made him even more proud of his son’s successes in life. It really drove home the meaning of success was not monetary it was your support system.

Once we got word that Scott’s average run speed started to slip we sent the family to the finish line while we went out to find him on our bikes. We all knew that this race for the past two years was extremely important to him. So, with music and cowbells in toe we stepped up our game and cheered him on at every corner. The last few blocks two of us were able to ride on the sidewalk next to him yelling “YOU DID IT! YOU DID IT!”

Jared said in a later email, "The run was tough but seeing you guys always made me smile. I will never forget running out of the stadium (Camp Randall) and seeing the dance party. It was the best part of my run."

Now, the question: What am I or you going to do to inspire someone?

125 mile ride

Holy crap! That’s a lot—at least for me!

Ok, I admit for those of you 125 is nothing, but if you’ve ever ridden with me I see 100 and I shut down. Something inside me says, ‘Not one more revolution—you’re done.’ ‘You said 100, here we are. You better call someone to come get you.’ So for me to go that far and still feel like I could go more—is a big deal in my books.

During my first year of riding on a ride I saw the 100 on my odometer. Not knowing what I was doing I stopped my bike and got off. I still had 4 miles to get back but my mind and body (mostly mind) said ‘That’s it! You’re walking back.’ I will never forget Drill Sergeant Paul, with his large commanding voice, next to me screaming “What the hell are you doing! You are NOT done. You do NOT get off your bike on a hill. Get back on!”

Anyways, I degrees. On Thursday I road the God’s Country Century. Elk River to Zimmerman up to Cambridge and back down to Anoka. I’ve done part of this route before but have never done the entire course. I started from my house and headed north. I love my location, but it’s not bike friendly by any means—so I waited until the morning rush was over. I have to say, riding during the middle of the weekday has to be the best time to ride (unless it’s during rush hour). No one is in a rush, people are not pissed off due to the stress of their jobs. Everyone obeys the 3 foot law—hell they even give you 5 feet! The only thing bad about my ride was the morning talk radio I was listening to—can they please just play music? Seriously, I don’t care what you have to say about Lindsey Lohan.

Everything was going great. The weather was perfect. The roads were clean and smooth. But, while I was going up this small hill at about mile 50 “Baby Got Back” came on the radio. The black women in me—yeah we all have a little of that in us—said ‘oh no they did not!’ so I attacked that hill. It was true motivation.

Now, one would think that guiding four guys across the country only momentary getting lost once or twice you would think that I could navigate myself based on my own handwritten directions—you would be wrong. Instead of heading north I went south thus putting me in a town that was not on my map. Thanks to modern technology—the nav button on my cell phone—I found another road that would take me to Cambridge—what I didn’t know was that it was a 4 lane highway! HOLY CRAP that was scary! I got off that road and into Cambridge like I was sprinting to the line.

I stopped at a Subway to get lunch before I headed back. It’s a little uncomfortable to be standing inline with cycling shorts and your hair worse then it was when you rolled out of bed and your eyes bloodshot from the dirt that slipped though the crevices of your glasses. Thankfully the guy behind the counter was friendly and asked where I came from—this took a little while to register. I told him from the cities and that I was 65 miles into my ride. He said, “That’s a 45 minute drive in the car.” I responded, “Oh, really? I wouldn’t know, I’ve never driven up here before.” He told me that a guy comes into Subway every Sunday from the cities and puts on about 14,000 miles a year. HOLY CRAP! That’s a lot of miles! I don’t think I put in 14,000 miles on my Jeep and my bike combined. I guess I need to step up my miles.

Anyways, I got back and felt surprisingly really good but not with a few extra detours and battled with the evening traffic.

Back to the spin of things

Now that it’s September and it feels like fall, and daylight is getting shorter, I decided it’s time to get back into the spin of my fall/winter/spring routine—not yet ready for the intense running thing yet. Ugh! Note how many seasons that just covered! Why do I not live where it’s much warmer? Yesterday I woke up before the birds to go to Traci’s spin class. Oh how familiarly—is that a word?—strange it was to get up at 4am, walk into the gym, set up “my” bike as I’ve done several times before and pushing your self to uncomfortable limits. Ok, that part I could do without.

It was great to see the same gentleman behind the counter taking my card to check me into the club I’ve been so used to seeing every morning. To seeing old friends you haven’t seen since April, catching up on what you and they have been doing the past couple of months. Now that school is starting and road racing season is over this will become true come the springtime when I’m outside again with my roadie/racing friends.

Traci took it easy on us. A few songs got my heart beating a bit faster thinking we were going to go harder—there are select songs that each instructor has that never leads to a comfortable workout. Other songs during the class brought a smile to my face thinking about a ride or event I did this past summer.

Don’t get me wrong, there is plenty of riding time left and a lot more miles I need to add to my bike, so for putting the road bike on the trainer in the middle of the living room will just have to wait.